The Red Scroll
by Seventh Guest
Summary: HEAVY SPOILERS! Tsunade happens across a scroll when she visits Jiraiya's apartment. In it is a detailed recollection of his life. While she reads it, she remembers what it was like growing up during the Great Shinobi War.


The Red Scroll

Several weeks later she was able to find the time and state of mind to go back to his house. Her heart hung heavy still. This wasn't something that could be put on his pupil and there was no one else as close to him. The task was hers alone. Tsunade had felt the days slip into weeks, and the weeks had become long. Better to do it now, or suffer needlessly. When Shizune had noted something was wrong, the fifth hokage took the cue to make peace with herself.

Of course, there had been the opportunity to let someone do it. Kakashi had volunteered, also seeing the heavy state of her shoulders. She'd refused. While he was amiable friends with her old teammate, there was something sacred about this. He'd left no heir save for Naruto, and that boy had bigger things to worry about than the old faded memories that she had come to know and love. Now at the threshold Tsunade stood at the door. It was time to face what he'd left behind and what she may find.

The room smelled faintly of hazelnut and paper. Her nose wrinkled as she let herself in, shutting the door behind herself. There was an ordered disorder to his place, and she felt a pang of grief twinge in her chest. Tsunade cradled her arm against herself, recalling that very day he'd gone out for his final mission. He would have come back from the office, she imagined, and straightened up a bit before leaving. While he was home he lived slightly cluttered but not so badly that it would kill to have company.

Her eyes caught the source of the nutty smell: a small oil burner set on the nearby counter had burned a small crusty disk where the heat seared away the vapors. She grimaced, shook her head, and sighed. He probably left the candle burning even once he'd left the house. That was a lot like his style, anyway. Where would she begin? Naruto would inherit all of this, just as he'd inherit his father's belongings when he was old enough. Tsunade felt restless as she plunged further in to his apartment.

She'd never really had the time to mourn. She realized that now as she glanced into a room with a single desk in it where he composed most of his outlandish stories. His writing tools were still out and that tipped her curiosity over the cliff. What was it that had been going on in his head the day he left? Was he thinking of what he was doing? Was he off, planning something grand for when he returned? Was it simply that he was lonely, and wondered if he'd be able to get some time with her?

Tsunade shook her head clear at the sudden deluge of questions and let her body roam over to the desk. There was still a single scroll on the hardwood surface, innocently perched beside his ink well and calligraphy brush. She sat herself down in the seat, the cushion was firm and comfortable. How man hours did he pour in to his work, shoulders slumped forward as he scrawled for hours on end? What were the things he thought about when he spent his evenings to the small hours of the morning? She couldn't help but feel as if he were there again, watching her as she took his seat. She slumped forward, and began to sob.

When her tears had dried like the remains of his ink, she wiped her eyes clean with her sleeves and took an account of what was around her. The window to her right had a fair view of the village and the forest. The woman had an inkling that somewhere in this direction was his old home, where he'd grown up, and where he'd left to come into his own. She felt her hand slide against the rich hardwood desktop and her fingers brushed against the open paper left there. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Tsunade regarded the blank white sheet.

The scroll still laid there, now gritty under her fingertips. She felt it calling her, like she'd come into this room. Normally she would have respected his space and not come to look but it seemed the right thing to do. She lifted the small red object and unfurled it. His handwriting dashed along the page like specks on a robin's egg. Her eyes softened as she read those words inside. They were as lively as the heart beating in her chest, and as emboldened as the sun when it rose.

_Today_, it read,_ I'm going out on another mission into the heart of enemy territory. The path to peace is long and difficult. I've always known this from the start. If you have trust, then it will come. There's no reason for these wars if everyone understands one another. With luck, I'll be back by sundown in three weeks, and have a bit more to say. I'm on a deadline, so I better get moving._

It was that very attitude she admired him for. His passion to bring peace and harmony were always inspiring, and she'd taken a stand with him in her own way. She was now the hokage, she could now change their country...their world like nobody else could! Her smile grew as she unveiled more of what the red scroll had to say. It was like taking the clock by an arm and turning it like a whirlwind back in time. Back to the beginning.

With that, she found the start.


End file.
